Power Struggle
by Tattooed Alchemist
Summary: A lost prophecy is discovered. A new branch of the Guys in White emerges. New and powerful alliances are formed. In a struggle for limitless power, will any survive? Three powers will rise, but only one can remain. Warning for torture.
1. Silence

_The things you do for yourself are gone when you are gone, but the things you do for others remain as your legacy. _

_Kalu Ndukwe Kalu_

* * *

Outside, in the unusually cool early September air, the whole world turned just as if it was any other day. No matter what, each night, every time she looked out into the streets below, waiting for him to go home, the world carried on in such a way as if there was nothing to be worried about.

Jazz had grown accustomed to the rhythmic and unaltered life that thrived outside her window. She no longer even had a need to look at a clock. She was able to tell what time it was by watching the various characters that passed by her window, faithfully keeping to their nightly routine.

Her first signal of what time it was was the sight of a middle aged man walking his dog. There was nothing particular about this man. He was just as plain and ordinary as any other. His dog, however, could have been in a size competition with a barn, and maybe even possibly have won. The presence of the man and his dog—which she amusingly referred to as 'Clifford' in her mind—signaled to her that the time was eight o'clock.

Once upon a time, Danny would have stumbled in before this man and Clifford appeared; if not to stay, to at least make an appearance to their parents before sneaking out to continue his ghost fighting. Once upon a time, he had cared about keeping up the appearance of your average, normal, everyday teenager with them.

It had been a long time since Danny had come home before the dog walking man strolled past. It had been a long time since many things.

The second signal of time for Jazz was the sight of an elderly couple, holding hands and leaning into each other, hobbling down the sidewalk at an incredibly slow pace, murmuring to each other so low it sounded as if it were far off music. They had stopped right outside her window one night to chat, this time accompanied by what Jazz assumed was their granddaughter. From the brief conversation she was able to learn that the pair had been married for a long time and had lived in Amity Park for most of their lives. The man had been developing Alzheimer's for quite a while and it was just now starting to reach its worst stages. The woman took him on the same walk every night, just as they did when they had first been married, in attempt to have him not to have her fade from his deteriorating memory.

It was their presence that signaled Jazz when it was nine-thirty. It had been a long time since Danny had come home before they walked past.

The third and final signal of what time it was was a familiar presence, one that both brightened her spirits and reminded her of the troublesome situation they were all in. It was the sight of Sam and Tucker running down the street, desperately trying to make it home before their parents realized they were gone.

Ever since Danny had started distancing himself from everyone Sam and Tucker had been picking up the slack in ghost hunting. Their approach to ghost hunting was much different than that of Danny's and her parents'. When they first started doing it on their own, they realized that, as teenage humans without any sort of superpowers, they didn't have the physical strength and ability to combat some of the more powerful ghosts. It was because of this that they started building alliances, persuading the ghosts to take their destructive ways to places where humans could not be harmed instead of just scooping them up into the Thermos and throwing them back into the Ghost Zone, where they always somehow managed to escape from anyways. In some ways, their method of ghost hunting was much more challenging than that of the other ghost hunters. Their way required much more dedication, cunningness, wit, quick thinking, and intimacy than other forms of ghost hunting.

Initially, Jazz had been involved in developing and perfecting this unconventional method of ghost fighting. But, as they developed their method, they realized that she was much better doing behind the scene duties, such as finding locations for ghosts to wreak havoc that wouldn't cause harm to humans, keeping up-to-date files of their known ghost allies, and developing a history of the Ghost Zone from the information they gathered from these new alliances—or at least for the time being this is what she did. Despite her knowledge in psychology, which had greatly aided them in creating this new method, she had been becoming far too worried about Danny to maintain the focus that this new method required. It was then that she decided to withdraw herself to the work of behind the scene duties for the benefit of efficiency.

Jazz sighed and glanced out the window, just in time to see Sam and Tucker speeding down the street. Tucker looked up at her to give her a brief smile and wave before booking it around the corner, moving too fast for her to return the wave. Though it was unfair to expect Danny to take care of all the ghosts, seeing how hard Sam and Tucker were pushing themselves to pick up the slack—or rather, the complete abandonment of ghost hunting from Danny—also seemed unfair, making her even more upset at her little brother.

Danny had been scaring her, scaring them all. If she had to pinpoint exactly when his unusual behavior started, it would be too challenging for her, due to the fact that it was so gradual.

It all started when she began to notice that there were more and more ghosts wreaking havoc in the streets of Amity Park than Danny usually ever allowed to be permitted as forgivable. Then he started to come home later and later, sometimes not even coming home at all. After that, he started disregarding his studies and attending classes less and less, ignoring Sam and Tucker, and distancing himself from Jazz and the rest of their family. Whenever she asked him if something was going on, he would always deny it, saying that she's hovering or exaggerating things, that there was nothing to be worried about. He seemed so nonchalant when dismissing her concerns, but in those brief moments she stole a glance at when he thought no one was looking, to her, it looked as though he was stressed out of his mind, as if he was on the verge of imploding.

She had refrained from directly confronting him thus far, hoping that he would come to her on his own, but she couldn't stand it any longer. She knew, after fourteen years, when her little brother was lying to her. Tonight, she was confronting him. Tonight, he was going to tell her the truth.

She had been just about to check the clock, seeing that all her time signaling persons had gone home, when a soft and familiar _thud_ came from the room across the hall. It was the sound she had become quite used to since learning of his powers, clearing up the mysterious sound, one that she had once thought to be a rat in the walls. Danny was home, having just phased through the top of Fenton Works and landed on the floor next to his bed, probably no doubt having flopped onto its fluffy comforter topped springs, which always resulted in the same soft _thud_, she had come to learn.

Jazz stood up without a second thought, having already gone through various possible ways the conversation she was about to have could go. After closing her window, shielding her room from the chilly night air that had managed to take control, she turned around and marched to Danny's room. She thought about just barging in and demanding an explanation, but she knew that was no way to seek information, especially if she wanted positive and productive results. Instead, after taking a long, deep breath, clearing out the stale air she had been holding in the bottom of her lungs, she knocked on the hard painted wood of his door and called softly, "Danny?"

There was another _thud_, this time louder, though she accredited that to the fact that she was now closer to the source. After a soft grunt, she heard her brother slowly make his way towards the door. Just as Jazz was reaching out to grab the knob the door swung open, though only just a few inches. With those few inches she was able to see that her brother, in the form of Danny Phantom, was standing there, grabbing his side and hobbled over, with a nasty gash across his chest that was oozing green ectoplasm, a pained expression hung across his face.

"Danny!" she exclaimed, jumping forward. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly, shutting the door more so only a sliver of an inch of the opening remained. "I'm fine. Leave me alone."

"No, you're not, Danny. You're hurt." She then added firmly, "And I will not. What's going on? Why have you been acting like this?" Softening her tone, seeing the surprise and shame in his eyes, she continued, "I'm worried about you, little brother. Sam and Tucker. We all are. Something's going on with you, Danny, I know it. Just tell me what it is. We can help you if you're in trouble."

Danny shook his head and smiled reassuringly, though the smile didn't reach his eyes. "I'm fine, Jazz. Really. I don't want to talk about it now, but when I can, you'll be the first that I'll tell." His voice was cracked and strained, as if each word took a special amount of dedication.

_When I can?...Tell?_ So there was something going on. And someone or something was keeping him from discussing it with her, or at least for the time being. Was Danny in trouble? Did this have something to do with Phantom or Fenton, or even both?

Jazz had just opened her mouth to press further, but Danny drew quicker. "Just butt out and leave me alone!" he burst out suddenly, his expression breaking into one of urgency. "I said I'm fine!" With that, he slammed the door the rest of the way shut, locking the door with such force that the sound of the sliding metal echoed through the hall.

Feeling defeated and determined at the same time, Jazz let out a deep sigh and crossed her arms in front of her chest, giving herself a tight hug. Something was going on with her brother. She wasn't going to rest until she found out what it was.

* * *

Tables were supposed to be meant for eating. They were meant to be circled around by family and friends, enjoying each other's company or perhaps talking about their days. They were supposed to be a place that was associated with pleasant feelings and good company. Tables weren't meant for unpaid bills and overdue notices.

Maddie sighed as she stared down at the mess of banks statements, overdue bills, and emptied envelopes. Ever since Fenton Works had lost one of their largest funders—due to, what they claimed, was a 'lack of new applicable scientific data'—finances had been tighter than ever, to the point where Maddie was now squeezing out every last penny she could just to get the bill collectors to leave her alone.

Back at the beginning, when things first started getting tight, Jack did the best he could to help, but after a while, with all his grand and over the top schemes that just had no possibility of working, Maddie decided that she alone would see to the finances. It was better this way, though she missed him. Despite how attention demanding his presence was, she always treasured it, especially appreciating its quality to brighten her mood.

He was upstairs, no doubt. Waiting up for her like he always did.

"Oh, Jack," she sighed with fondness at the thought of him.

Rubbing her hands across her weary face, her body longed for the comfort of bed. As much as she yearned for slumber though, she had decided early on that, no matter what, she was going to finish figuring out how to make it through this month tonight and not worry about it again for as long as she had to.

As her hands slowly fell down from her face into the rumbled mess of papers and ripped open envelopes below, the gaze of her eyes fell to the oddity amongst the clutter on the table. Unlike the other contents lying about that were demanding money, this particular letter was offering it. She had received it only this morning, an offer from the Guys in White for her assistance in a new research project of theirs.

Despite the lucrative payment agreement for her services, Maddie had decided, for ethical reasons, to not respond to their offer. Unlike her and Jack, the Guys in White had no moral code when it came to hunting and experimenting on ghosts. She had put it so far out of question that she hadn't even bothered to tell Jack yet.

She had been just about to force herself to dive back into the rumpled papers when she heard something upstairs. It sounded as though Jazz and Danny were arguing about something, though the shouting only lasted for a moment. Letting out one last frustrated sigh, Maddie grabbed up all the papers, deciding enough was enough for one night. The call of slumber was now just too strong to ignore any longer.

As she separated out that which she needed and that which was useless, belonging no place else other than the trash, her eyes drifted back to the letter from the Guys in White. If this had been two months ago, she would have picked it up and added it to the pile that was about to be thrown away. But this wasn't two months ago. Things had changed. After another bout of a moral and ethical wrestling match taking place inside her head, Maddie decided to keep the letter, but only in the case of it worse came to worse. For her family, she could push herself to go beyond her level of comfort in terms of ethical morality. After all, this all was for her family anyways. She would go to the ends of the earth for any of them.

Tossing aside the useless papers, saving the needed bills and notices, as well as the letter from the Guys in White, and tucking them away into the drawer, Maddie shut off the kitchen light and went upstairs. As she walked past Danny's and Jazz's rooms she lingered for a moment, mentally repeating the words to herself, _All for you_.


	2. Prophecy

_Our lives hang in the balance of unpredictable situations._

_Ted Dekker_

* * *

He stood in the center of the room, alone. The room was dark, though it was slightly lit by the glowing, eerie green light that was being cast off by the ghostly screens. These screens, more like floating windows or mirrors, held no mortal image; each held limited glimpse into a different time period, some the past and some the future, constantly and rapidly changing their point of view in regards to time. In the beginning, Danny had found these screens to be particularly distracting, especially the screens that revealed glimpses into the future, often remembering how, some time ago, one of these screens foretold a future for him that was less than desirable. But the Observants quickly noted this distraction and added this difficultly in as part of his lessons.

"Again," one of the large eyed ghosts bellowed out from behind him.

Danny gritted his teeth, knowing well it would only add to his problems if he were to turn around and tell the Observant what he'd rather do instead, having learned long ago that the Observants didn't quite grasp the idea of wit or sarcasm. After taking a deep breath, visualizing all his anger and frustration leaving him as he did so, Danny turned to face Clockwork.

As part of his training, Clockwork would take particularly powerful opponents from different points in time and bring them back so Danny could fight them. He was particularly good at choosing a wide variety of opponents. No two could be defeated the same way. Some he brought required a sole reliant on physical ability, but others required more of an intellectual approach, meaning that Danny had to figure out a way of defeating them that didn't rely on brute force. For instance, there was one opponent, an especially rough looking one that Danny would have sworn to be the type to get a certain thrill out of physical match, that was such the case. As it out this enemy could only be defeated with a battle of wit, a ghost that Danny felt Clockwork had brought back for his own amusement.

Clockwork sighed, eyes glancing in a lazily fashion between Danny and the Observants that lined the back wall. After a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders he said, "No, we've had enough for one day."

With that, Danny let out a sigh of relief. His last battle, one with an eight foot scorpion ghost who shot out razor blades from the tip of his tail, had left him wounded and drained.

"What?" one of the Observants cried out in disgust. "No! He must continue his training or he will never be ready!"

"Oh," Clockwork said, chuckling darkly as he morphed from his elderly form to his child form, "he'll be ready. That I can guarantee."

One of the large eyed ghosts stepped forward, his purple cloak flaring up slightly in the wind created by his sudden movement, and yelled from his mouthless voice, "Clockwork, I order you to bring forth another opponent!"

"Really?" he laughed. "You _order_ me?" He floated across the room, shifting into his adult form, bringing himself a few mere inches away from the Observant's giant eye and began, in a voice that was neither present of anger or fear, but rather a dulled amusement drenched in a rich confidence, "Shall we waste time having this argument or would you just like for me to skip us all ahead to where I win? I say, Daniel is done for the day. Now, the only question that remains is whether you shall be leaving here of your own will or mine."

The Observant edged back, showing displays of aghast with his slightly overdramatic throwback of hands, and barked, disgruntled, "Fine!" He turned towards Danny and added, "We will continue this tomorrow."

"I'll be waiting," Danny called back, using the last of his spare energy to make his voice strong, not wanting to show any signs of weakness or tiredness.

With that, the Observants teleported out of Clockwork's lair, most likely back to a lair of their own, though Danny had never seen it.

He let out another sigh of relief, this time due to the fact that they were finally gone. Never, in all of his life or afterlife, had Danny thought that he would be spending all his time with the Observants. Whenever they were around it never meant anything good for him. That is why, a number of months ago when they approached him, he initially assumed that something had gone wrong in his future again and this time Clockwork hadn't been there to intervene. As it turns out, the news they were bringing him was entirely even more shocking.

Amongst the secret and hidden places that the Observants lurked was a prophecy that had long been forgotten and lost. This prophecy was written during the terrible reign of Dark Pariah by an unknown and long gone ghost. This prophecy stated that whoever it was that put Dark Pariah to his final sleep would become the next Ghost King. Originally, the Observants didn't believe that it could possibly mean Danny, thinking it would be more likely that if any were to be the next Ghost King it would be Vlad or some other; that was until Clockwork encouraged them to turn to Danny in regards for Ghost King training, refusing to say anything further.

The training that the Observants were putting him through, via the help from Clockwork and Frost Bite, was tough but manageable. There were two things though that made the training difficult.

The first was the mental strain that had been put on Danny in regards to the thought of all the challenges and responsibilities that would come with being a king. No matter how much training or how many of the books the Observants gave him to read, he felt that he would never have the maturity, wisdom, or intellectual ability it took to be king. This left him feeling constantly on-edge and anxious, feeling as though he had a lifetime of knowledge and wisdom to catch up on in a short of amount of time. He felt as though the weight of the whole Ghost Zone rested on his shoulders, and his reign hadn't even begun.

The second reason that the training the Observants was putting him through was so difficult was that they had forbidden him to tell a single soul about the prophecy, the reason for this being they feared if others were to find out about it that it would become a self-fulfilling prophecy, meaning that the only reason that he became the Ghost King was because of a prophecy that said he was to become the Ghost King. The Observants were going so far to protect this from happening that they had forbidden Danny from telling Sam, Tucker, and Jazz about it. He argued against this, swearing to the Observants that they could be trusted, but the Observants again forbad it. This left Danny facing the mental struggle of becoming king, as well as the training, all on his own without the aid and support of those who he held most dear.

"Don't go yet," Clockwork called back. Danny turned around to see the now elderly ghost floating towards the other side of his lair, entering into the part that more resembled the inside of an incredibly large clock tower. Danny decided to follow after him.

Though the large, dramatically moving pieces of clock machinery were an interesting sight, the only thing that Danny was able to see was the solidary Thermos that sat on the edge of a counter, undisturbed with a menacing face dented out on one side. A shiver ran down Danny's spine. Inside of that Thermos was not only the greatest foe he had ever defeated, but was also a reminder of all the dark power he was capable of. Would that darkness, that one that had been present in his future in the not so distant past, return once he received the power of a king?

"No," Clockwork said simply as he drew nearer to it, but stopped when he was still a few feet away.

"What?" Danny asked, confused.

"The answer to your question is 'no'," Clockwork repeated.

"What question?" Though Danny neared to the direction of the Thermos, he chose to stand as far away as he could manage from the cursed thing.

"The one as to whether you become him or not." He shifted into his child form and continued. "As you can see, he is still in there. Therefore, you don't turn into him."

Danny gave a nod, not having the words, or even the energy for that matter—he was still bleeding from the cuts he had received during his fight with the scorpion—to give a full response. However, after mustering up enough strength, unable to handle not asking, he pressed by saying, "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure of many things," Clockwork waved. "I'm not saying that there isn't the possibility that you won't become an evil king, I'm only stating that the time lines for you to become this future here," he gestured towards the Thermos, "are nearing the point of no longer being relevant."

"Oh," Danny said, hoping that it would come off more sarcastic as opposed to the disappointment that he felt.

"But I know you won't become evil," Clockwork said as he shifted into his adult form.

Danny brightened up slightly. "Is that a guarantee?"

"No," Clockwork smiled, shifting back into his elderly form. "I'll guarantee you nothing. I enjoy the element of surprise far too much to allow that. But I will tell you that I know you will be a good king. Not because I've looked into your future, but because I've seen your present. I have faith in you, Danny Phantom."

"Thanks," Danny replied, wishing he had the same amount of faith in himself that Clockwork had.

* * *

The world was lit by an un-centered light sorce that bathed the atmosphere in a light of ghostly green. Waves of color, some green and some purple, waved across the sky like clouds—though gravity was warped in this dimension, being irrelevant in a world composed of floating and phasing ghosts—so these waves colored every direction, unlike clouds that only occupied the air above. Brightly colored doors floated about randomly, each being a portal to an individual ghost's lair. Some lairs though, required no portal and simply occupied the atmosphere like its own small, solidary planet.

Sam stared out the window, mind wandering as the ghostly portal doors to nameless ghosts' faces as they flew by. She trusted Tucker with the Specter Speeder, feeling no need to monitor or be wary of his driving and navigating abilities.

As her stared out her mind couldn't help but to drift back and wander to conversation she and Tucker had had just moments before they left. As they were preparing the Speeder, Tucker had found the Fenton Boomerang, the device constructed by Danny's ghost hunting parents in an attempt to track and hunt ghosts, though the Boomerang had a knack for only being able to track down Danny. Tucker had wanted to bring it so that they could find out where Danny kept sneaking off to, citing the fact that they all were legitimately worried about him and he could be in trouble. While Sam agreed with him, and wanted to use the Boomerang herself, she insisted on allowing Danny the chance to come to them, arguing that perhaps he was hiding something because he felt like it was for their own good.

Of course, now the only problem was convincing herself that doing as such, allowing him such a dangerous privacy, was the right choice.

"Almost there," Tucker said, the sound of his voice waking her up from her trance, causing her to jump slightly.

"Alright," she muttered, acting as uncaring as she could muster to act as though the small display of fright did not happen.

Ahead was the lair of the Box Ghost. His small section of the Ghost Zone appeared as, to no surprise, a loading dock filled with boxes. Ever since they and Jazz began working their new system of ghost hunting her and Tucker had been trying to keep good in maintaining the strength of their new alliances. These alliances were built on the agreement that they would allow these ghosts to wreak as much havoc as they wanted to in the human world so long as it was to certain maintained areas that they provided, these areas being free of any humans that could get hurt as well as property that could cause harm if lost to Amity Park. One of the strongest alliances, much to their chagrin, was the one that they had formed with the Box Ghost. In order to maintain this alliance, they visited him in his lair often, granting him permission that it was a permissible time to have about his way in the human world to the area they provided to him, granted that he give them information regarding the latest news and gossip of the Ghost Zone. They hoped that by doing this that they would have an insight to the inner workings of the Ghost Zone, perhaps having the inside edge in case anything catastrophic were to happen.

Sam sighed. As much as a pain the Box Ghost was, he was proving himself to be a valuable source for inside information. She was starting to believe that he would happily give over such information even without their prearranged agreement, finding amusement in the fact that someone actually wanted to listen to him. As to how he got his information, Sam was unsure, but she accredited it to the fact that he always had a way of wiggling his nose in places they didn't belong, including other people's business.

So far, they hadn't learned anything too juicy, aside from the fact that Skulker had a soft spot for bunnies, believing them to be too small to be considered a hunt-worthy prey and disapproving of others who felt otherwise. However, whatever information they did learn they always brought back to Jazz, who was currently working on a lexicon of the Ghost Zone as well as a detailed history of it.

As they neared the loading dock styled lair Sam let out another sigh. She missed Danny. She couldn't even remember the last time the three of them had hung out. She knew something was going on with him, he never would have abandoned them like this if there wasn't, but so far no one had had any luck as to getting him to tell them what was wrong. No longer able to stand the silence, despite the fact that it had only been a short matter of minutes since the last spoken word, though it had felt much longer than that with the commotion in her head, Sam let out weakly, "I'm worried about him."

"Me too," Tucker replied, needing no illumination as to what Sam had meant by '_he'_.

Continuing on her exhaustion from worry she muttered, "I don't want to deal with the stupid Box Ghost tonight."

"Me neither," Tucker replied, using the same slightly distanced tone. "But we got to do it, for Danny."

"For Danny," Sam agreed with another sigh, a slight note of bitterness and anger ringing in her voice.


	3. Secrets

_In all secrets there is a kind of guilt_, _however beautiful or joyful they may be, or for what good end they may be set to serve_. _Secrecy means evasion, and evasion means a problem to the moral mind._

_Gilbert Parker _

* * *

Despite the frozen tundra of his surroundings, Danny himself was not cold. Initially, he thought that the snow and ice must have remained constant due to the Ghost Zone's unusual makeup, the frigid climate setting being able to remain without the temperature having any sort of influence on it, no matter how hot or cold. However, after one of the many lessons with Frost Bite, being buried in a pile of freezing cold snow yet feeling no affect from its frozen nature, Danny decided that since he had an ice core he must have been unaffected by the ice. Almost as if he was a cold blooded snake adapting to his surrounds, or even his ghostly exterior became more connected with his core, allowing him to function without being effected by the temperature of the snow and ice.

Jazz would know which one it was. She always had a way of knowing those sorts of things. And if not, she was always able to make up a convincing hypothesis that always satisfied him when it came to solving things they had no way of definitely figuring out.

He sat at the peak of one of the entrances to the various caves that occupied themselves around the piece of the Ghost Zone that belonged to Frost Bite and his kin. There was no wind, though the dancing of the loose snow and ice were apparently unaware of this fact. As he watched the fluffy white specks swirl around with others, eventually ending in an embrace and morphing into a large snow pile, Danny reflected back on his lessons with Frost Bite.

Unlike when he was with Clockwork, the Observants didn't follow him to Frost Bite's lair to monitor his training. He once asked Frost Bite as to why this was, but he just rode it off that they had a bad since of humor and refused to explain anything further than that. Regardless what the reasoning for it was, Danny enjoyed not being watched like a lab rat every single moment while in training. It eased some of his anxieties, allowing himself to believe that this training with Frost Bite was just solely for the purpose of self betterment, as opposed to being in training to be the next Ghost King.

Danny held out his hand in front of him, manipulating his fingers in such a way so as he appeared to be making an 'O'. After drawing deep within, focusing on the power in his icy core, ice began forming out of the circle Danny had made with his fingers, extending outwards in both directions. The ends continued out until one stopped to make a rounded blunt surface and the other a sharp, pointed spear end. Being alone, he didn't hold back his smile as he examined his handiwork.

Lately, Frost Bite had been teaching him how to create weapons out of ice. He had explained to him that the problem with ice weapons was that they were easy to break and sometimes weren't very effective on certain enemies. The positive side of it, he had explained, was that, with having an ice core and ice powers, that even if the weapon broke, as long as he strength remained, it was fairly easy to replace, being able to just create a new one.

"Don't show the Observants until you have mastered the power, Great One," Frost Bite had boosted out when he had first showed him how to do it. He explained that with so much secrecy around, that Danny should keep this ability a secret until he had fully developed it. The reason for this being that Frost Bite wanted Danny to knock the Observants off their feet and leave them speechless when he was finally ready to show them his power.

As he looked over the spear again, he couldn't help but to wonder if he could somehow power it up further with the aid of some of the ecto-energy he used in his ghost rays. This thought was interrupted, however, when a sudden shift in the ground beside him announced that Frost Bite had joined him.

"What are you still doing here, Oh Great One?" Frost Bite asked in his usual grand voice.

Danny cringed inwardly. "Please stop calling me that. Just Danny, okay?"

"As you wish, Gr—Danny," Frost Bite replied. After an awkward moment of silence he then repeated, "Why are you still here? Our training session for today has ended."

"I know," Danny replied, making a tossing motion with his hand that was holding the ice spear. The ice of the spear only hung in the air for a moment before shattering into a lofty shower of snow, catching away and being dispersed into the air as quickly as it had appeared. "I just needed to clear my head for a bit. If that's cool with you."

"I welcome you to stay as long as you desire," Frost Bite waved with his hand that was composed of ice, bone revealed through the glass-like appearance of the ghostly ice.

The two sat in silence for a while, merely looking over the frozen oasis, absorbed in their own thoughts, until Frost Bite suddenly asked, awaking Danny's mind back to reality, "Something is troubling you, Danny. What's wrong?"

For a moment, Danny thought about lying. About denying that anything was wrong and that he was just merely tired. But the truth was he couldn't. He hadn't been able to confide or have support from anyone since this whole mess had started. Suddenly, without even a true conscience thought of it, Danny seized the door that had been slightly opened, taking the opportunity to share with Frost Bite all that had been weighing on him ever since the Observants came to him with the prophecy.

It took a while, after bottling so much up, but the more Danny talked the lighter he felt. His burden wasn't gone, far from that, but sharing with someone everything eased the troubles of his soul in such a way that it gave him a much needed relief.

"The worst part," Danny concluded after revealing to Frost Bite everything, having found himself unable to stop once he had started, and Frost Bite seeming genuinely interested and sympathy to all that Danny had said, despite its rambling nature, "is that I can't tell Jazz or Sam or Tuck about all this. I mean—I mean, I'm nothing without them. How am I supposed to do all this all by myself?"

Frost Bite sat in silence for a moment, as if digesting all that he had just heard. He then nodded slowly and began, "You're right, Great One. I do not understand how they anticipate you to do it on your own. Nor had I known that they were expecting you to in the first place." The mighty giant then stood up suddenly, the ground and snow quickly shifting beneath him. Without any sort of warning, he grabbed Danny by the shoulder and pulled him into an upright standing position. "Rise up, Danny, and go. I wanted you to tell your friends of this prophecy and of this training. I will deal with the Observants. The blame will fall on me. I trust you, and I trust your trust. I know your friends will not betray you or this secret."

Danny just stood and stared at the fury giant, momentarily dumbstruck at what Frost Bite had just told him to do. As soon as it processed, however, an overwhelming joy surged up from himself him, shocking him into a state of disbelief. "Really?" he stammered, his voice cracking embarrassingly due to his excitement. He recovered his voice and then added quickly, perhaps a bit too lowly in an attempt to overcompensate for his previous crack, "I couldn't ask you to do that."

"Well then it's a good thing you're not asking me to," Frost Bite laughed a laugh so deep the tinkling sound of icicles breaking littered the air. "Go now then and tell them. Let your soul suffer in secrecy no more."

With that, without even a proper goodbye or a formal thank you, Danny burst into the air as hard as he could, sending a whirlwind of snow flying out in every direction below due to his force. Unspeakable excited fueled him as he raced towards the portal. In his mind he raced over several possible variations of ways he could tell them. He knew that, most likely, he would abandon all forms of this rehearsal once he saw the three who he held most dear, but he was just so overjoyed that he couldn't help but to imagine it.

He was half way back to his family's Ghost Zone portal when a gift from the universe appeared before him. A new portal, one that had just opened and appeared to have occurred just a few blocks away from his house. Without giving it any sort of a second thought, Danny dove right through the portal and into the dark, nightly realm of Amity Park.

The streets were bare, save for an elderly couple that hobbled down the sidewalk at an unspeakably slow pace. Letting out a mischievous laugh, musing to himself what the couple would think at the sight of his ghostly self, he zoomed past them, not bothering to look back at their now wind-whipped air and airborne hat. He had been just about to zoom into his house, Danny Phantom and all, when he decided it would be best to calm himself first before revealing to sister anything. After all, he still wasn't completely sure as to how he would exactly tell her about the prophecy or how he would go about asking her forgiveness for being so secretive as of late.

He flew to the tall brick apartment complex across the street from his house and sat himself on the edge of the roof. From where he sat, he could see Jazz in her room. Her window was open wide and she was sitting at her desk, hunched over a notebook and looking up at a clock every few minutes. He figured she must have been working on some entrance essay for college and was worried about how staying up would affect her academically the next day. He laughed silently at this thought.

Of course, it was possible for him to tell Tucker and Sam about this secret prophecy first, but Danny didn't even consider it a real option. Jazz was there for him and had been throughout his entire life. The way he had been treating her as of late, especially the night before, she deserved the first explanation and apology. He had much to explain and apologize for with Tucker and Sam, but Jazz came first.

Several minutes had passed. The elderly couple Danny had passed was now in view, nearly two blocks away from his house. Deciding that there was no point in delaying it any further, Danny stood up, ready to take off and enter in through Jazz's window. She had just left, only seconds before, so he decided to have some fun and surprise her by waiting for her in her room until she returned.

No sooner had he stood up then a quick, wiring, high-pitched sound filled the air, followed by a distinct, sharp pain radiating from his thigh. Perplexed, he looked down to see that a peculiar looking dart was sticking out of the side of his leg. The sight was so unusual and strange to him that he wasn't able to fully comprehend what it could possibly mean when suddenly his whole body began to feel limp. His mind felt as though it were drifting away from him and suddenly all his limps gave out. He swayed on the side of the building only for a moment before suddenly falling straight down to the ground, his body completely unresponsive and being nothing but dead weight. His mind still hadn't had time to process all that was going on even when he hit the pavement, his head landing on the hard cement without even having the physical or mental ability to brace himself for the impact.

Suddenly, everything was black.

* * *

The room reeked of strong alcohol and expensive cigars. Empty glass bottles littered the floor, abandoned crystal glasses lying around from having been tossing about. In the corner, watching an old rerun of a Packers game and appearing to have not bothered to change clothes or even bathe for the past few days, Vlad sat back in his outrageously expensive plush chair, cradling a half empty bottle of hard liquor to his chest. If the Fright Knight hadn't known better, he would have said that the supposedly great Plasmius was dead, considering how motionless he was.

Suddenly, without looking back or making any sort of movement, Vlad demanded, his voice heavily slurred and sounding waxed beyond its limit, full of an anger of a drunk rage, "What do _you_ want?"

The Fright Knight was too disgusted with drunken man's state to dignify him with a proper response. "You shouldn't drink so much. Alcohol can kill."

"So can I!" Vlad roared back, a quick, bright light enveloping him as he transformed from his human form into his ghost form. However, he made no movement or threat beyond such a shift.

Annoyed, the Fright Knight let out a loud sigh and announced, "I'll come back later for our meeting when you're not drunk." After turning around and heading to the window from which he had entered, he turned and called back over his shoulder, "Sober up." And with that, he left, leaving the drunken man to continue to drown himself with his own choices of poison.


End file.
